Free Threats at Three by Ann Purser

said.
    “Trust you, Lois,” Gran added. “All the nice women there are around needing jobs, and you have to take on a single mother with four sons, living on Social Services, abandoned by a violent no-good husband who could turn up any minute. Great. Well done, Lois.”
    Lois stood up. “Have you finished, both of you?” she said coldly. “Then I’m off to bed. I’ll make the call first thing in the morning, Derek. And for your information, Paula Hickson is a very good, responsible mother, desperate to earn a bit of extra and not be a total drag on the state. And , unless I’m a lousy judge, she’ll be a reliable, honest member of my team. Don’t wake me up when you come to bed,” she added, barely suppressing her anger. She left the room, leaving Derek and Gran looking at each other in dismay.
    “The end of a perfect day,” Derek said gloomily.
    “She’ll come round. She always does.” Gran knew she was on thin ice here. Living with your daughter’s family was not always a cushy billet.

THIRTEEN

    D ON’T FORGET,” DEREK SAID NEXT MORNING, AS HE PULLED on his boots ready to go up to the allotment.
    “I don’t need reminding,” Lois said. “I reckon something very nasty is going on, and I don’t mean gypsies and passing tramps. You go, and I’ll tell you what Cowgill says at lunchtime. He may not be in his office yet, but I can get hold of him anyway. Cheerio, love. See you later.” She smiled sweetly at him, and he went off to start his van, pretty sure he was forgiven.
    Around nine o’clock, Lois dialled Cowgill’s number, and he answered with a brisk, “Good morning, Lois. How are you and the family?”
    Must have someone with him, thought Lois. His opening words were usually something silly, like “how’s the light of my life.” She always snapped at him, but now missed the affection in his voice.
    “There’s been another go at firing the village hall,” she said, and told him what had happened.
    “Why weren’t we told straightaway?” he said, and then obviously turned away from the phone to say goodbye to someone. After a pause, he said, “But before we start, how’s the love of my life?” he added, his voice softened in the daft way that immediately triggered a sharp reply from Lois.
    “Why don’t we just start again, instead of all that rubbish?” she said. “It was Derek’s decision to leave it ’til today, and the others backed him up. They made sure the hall was safe, then went home. Derek said they agreed it should be me phoning you. Can’t think why.”
    “I can,” he said. “I am taking this seriously, Lois. Arson is a very nasty thing. It doesn’t necessarily stop at destroying a building. People can be involved, too. Remember the fire in the gypsies camp? A miracle nobody was hurt. No, I’ll get the best men for the job to look further into it. One attempt may well be a kids’ prank, but this second go at it nearly succeeded. If Derek and friends hadn’t noticed the smell of smoke, the fire could have taken hold and then God knows where it might have spread. Can you meet me down there at ten o’clock. I’ll have Chris with me.”
    “Chris? Who’s he?”
    “She,” Cowgill said. “Chris Botham is my new assistant. You’ll like her. She’s not unlike a certain dear girl who runs a cleaning business. Bright and quick. Not bad looking. Doesn’t tolerate fools gladly. Sharp tongue at times . . .”
    “Ah, you can’t mean she’s like me, then,” said Lois. “I’m known for being a soft touch.”
    “Ha!”
    Lois could hear Cowgill chuckling, and then he said, “See you in a while, then.”
     
     
    THE ANONYMOUS-LOOKING CAR DROVE INTO THE VILLAGE HALL car park, and Lois watched the tall figure of Cowgill get out, then a slim, dark woman wearing a grey jacket and skirt that revealed a pair of well-shaped legs and sensible shoes. The two of them headed across to join Lois in the hall porch, and after the introductions were made, she showed them the